In The Name of Love
by phoenixwriter
Summary: Nobody wants to know the truth, not if it's about what we're willing to do out of love. Dumbledore knew about the power of love and how to use it so Harry would fulfil his destiny. One year after Voldemort's downfall Harry will finally learn of Hermione's sacrifice.
1. Torn

**Torn**

* * *

In past weeks his life changed abruptly from war to the seemingly peace now. However, it was precisely this change that caused an undefined feeling of dread in Harry Potter, which was far higher than anything else he ever felt throughout the long years in Voldemorts shadow. All this time, Harry never had to fear that his concerns might become as real like right now.

The low temperatures of this early night made his breath visible. On top of the astronomy tower, Harry stood alone and kept looking into the distance lost in thoughts. In far east first stars could be seen but for this sight, he had no muse. After Voldemort was defeated, the grieving of all the people lost over, Harry, Hermione and Ron had decided to get back to Hogwarts and finish their seventh year if not just for some kind of normality in life.

At first, it seemed so easy to forget about the time at war, and Harry even felt like in his sixth year after he finally got together with Ginny. Already then he didn't believe they could ignore just like that everything that had happened in this second magical war, too much had happened and ultimately changed them more or less as persons. He didn't know how much and how it would affect his relationship with his best friends at that time.

Already Ron's reaction after Harry was named Headboy, should have warned him, that nothing would be like it used to. The months without Ron, while hunting the Horcruxes, had brought Harry and Hermione closer than ever something that became a problem slowly. Both knew why Ron had abandoned them, and they began acting soon accordingly.

They avoided giving Ron any reasons to be jealousy. He, on the other hand, frequently started to use up all Hermione's free time. Of course, he was her boyfriend, and Harry understood they would spend more time alone with each other until he realised there wasn't any moment left where he was alone with Hermione. Only in their shared duties, some stolen minutes in the little common room of the headquarters were left. But even this was too much for Ron. Harry could read it from his expression every time the topic came up, how jealousy Ron was and probably preferred if Harry and Hermione didn't spend a single second without his supervision.

At the same time, Harry tried to rebuild his relationship with Ginny. It was remarkably easy to fall back into the old patterns. It allowed him partially to forget his anger about the romance between Ron and Hermione and what it meant to their friendship. But soon the first dark clouds on their rosy pink sky appeared. It was difficult for Harry to see Ginny as equal, and she couldn't understand his worries. Hermione, as well as Ron, would remain a part of his life, only the dynamic was about to change.

"Well, what do you want, that everything stays the same? Harry, they'll have, just like you, their own family. Of course, it will become more important than any friendship." He could still hear her saying.

Ginny just didn't understand that Harry felt in parts guilty because of his close friendship with Hermione. Too often, it had caused heated arguments and strained situations between all three. Harry also felt anger that Ron acted this way, at all. Ginny always had been the princess of her family; she couldn't possibly know how to feel unloved and worthless.

The final school year neared it's ending, and Harry's anxieties grew each day. He could picture perfectly the future. Shouldn't Harry and Hermione work together at the ministry, then they'd met, if at all, by the Weasley's. In the end, there would be only a few stolen moments between two people, who had too much sympathy for others that they lost each other in the process. The once close friendship would completely evaporate into regretting memories.

His grip on the railing got so tight that the white of his knuckles could be seen. Never in his wildest dreams, he had expected to hate the fact that Ron and Hermione were together like he did now. Already now, he missed her fiercely, he couldn't imagine how it would be in a few months.

"Here you are, Harry. I've been searching for you." He heard Hermione's voice and turned to her.

She stood near the top landing, wore a red strapless dress and watched him worriedly.

"Is everything alright?" She sounded almost rhetorical.

Harry just weakly grinned at her, and it was enough for her as an answer. She knew too well the reason why he was worked up.

"You look beautiful." He finally found his voice.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled flattered, but soon, her expression darkened again. "We should leave now. Ron must be wondering already where we are."

She turned around to leave.

"Why are we doing this?" Suddenly, he pressed out and grabbed her hand to stop her.

Endless long Hermione intensively gazed at him, as if she wanted to tell him everything with her eyes what she couldn't say to him with her mouth. The silent communication had become their sanctuary.

"Harry!" She sighed heavily and lowered her head.

"Fine, you are right, of course, we really should be leaving. It's after all, Ron's birthday." Harry gave reluctantly in; it was already difficult enough.

Gratefully she squeezed his hand. Together they left the tower and walked to the Gryffindor common room. Even before they reached the painting, they could hear muffled music. The party had started. Inside they couldn't understand their own words, but Harry grinned.

Maybe he needed this distraction. It would probably be good for all of them. They hardly had passed the entrance he could already see in the distance Ron moving with a bright smile on his face through the crowd towards them.

"Hermione, you're just in time here." He started to talk when he reached them and took Hermione's free hand, led her away from Harry.

Surprised, she looked back at Harry, while he felt her hand slip away from his. Ron stopped only when they had reached the centre of the room. He used his wand to get the attention of all party guests. The music got turned off, and an airy silence ruled the room.

"Good, now that I got your full attention, let me introduce to you a very dear person. A few of you probably know her already." Laughing could be heard. "Hermione Granger and hopefully soon Weasley."

A murmur went through the room, while Harry watched stone-faced from Ron to Hermione, who looked just as surprised as he felt. Ron held already a little box in his left hand and opened it.

"Hermione, do you want to be my wife?" He finally asked.

Shocked Harry gaped at Ron. It lasted at least a few minutes till he noticed that Hermione hadn't answered but instead looked horrific at Ron. A few times, she opened her mouth, but no sound came over her lips. A complete, uncanny silence laid over the common room. Nobody dared to say anything.

"I can't, I just can't do that." At first only barely then louder by seconds, Hermione repeated the phrase frenetically.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't." She said and looked to Harry's amazement to him as if she needed to apologise to him.

Shock and disbelief were written all over Ron's face, while he abruptly let go of Hermione's hand. The appalled whispering about what just had happened grew louder. Hermione, however, used her chance moved away from Ron before she fled the common room entirely. Harry only heard how the painting closed with a bang and saw Ginny embrace Ron.

Without a second thought, Harry turned towards the exit in an attempt to follow Hermione. Ron had enough people to comfort him. He didn't need him too. Despite it all, Harry felt relieved.

* * *

Hi,

this story came to mind, while I was writing on "A Desperate Deed". Several ideas I just couldn't use their, I'm going to use here instead. It actually means a few, to me at least, frustrating things from canon will be mentioned and dealt with accordingly. This one is going to take some time considered I got to rewrite, plot some stuff. It is to date my longest fanfiction project. There is going to be some built up, some OCC reaction but in due time you should be able to understand the why's. I hope you'll enjoy this one.

Phoenixwriter


	2. Buried

__Against true love exists no medication. Nothing on this Planet can destroy us so hopelessly like a love that isn't allowed to live_._

**Buried**

* * *

The corridors of the castle were at this time sparsely lightened, and Harry began to doubt he'll ever find Hermione without the marauder's map until he heard someone sniffling. She hadn't gotten far. They were still on the seventh floor. Hermione was leaning with her back against the wall as if she had been waiting for him.

As he got closer, he could see how she rummaged in her back, probably searching for a handkerchief. In the shine of the moon, which silver light broke through the windows, she appeared even more lost to him than she already was. As Harry finally had reached her, no words were exchanged. Instead, they locked eyes. He didn't know what he could say to comfort her, not at all what he should do. The silent tears flowing over her face were enough for him to remain quiet.

"I just can't do this, Harry." She spoke at least.

Truly confused, he saw to her, he didn't understand her. Strained, she leaned her head against the cold wall like she was fighting with all might to keep her composure. To his surprise, however, Hermione took her wand and held it against her temples. Harry held his breath while a thin silvery thread slowly alongside her wand materialised and she inserted this thread into a little bottle, which she previously had taken out of her back.

"Hermione, I don't understand -"

"Watch my memory, please, Harry!" She interrupted him urgently.

Grudgingly he accepted the flask with the silvery substance now floating in it from her. The glass itself felt in his sweating hand, increasingly like something forbidden. What kind of memory had she given him and why couldn't Hermione just tell him in person?

With a last meaningful look, she left Harry behind and alone in the deserted corridors. An uncanny dreadful sensation had replaced the relief he had felt a few minutes ago. Whatever laid hidden in this little bottle was certainly powerful enough to change his whole life. Perhaps something terrible had happened between Ron and Hermione what Harry needed to see with his own eyes to believe?

Harry played all kinds of possibilities in his mind through while his legs set into motions. By Merlin, if Ron had in any way hurt Hermione, he was going to pay for that, Harry would personally make sure of that if he didn't kill him first. When exactly had Harry begun, he wondered, to mistrust his best friend this badly that he seriously even considered Ron was at all able to commit such hideous crime?

After a few minutes, Harry arrived at the headmistress office. The privileges as Headboy allowed wandering through the corridors past curfew. Even without this, nobody would have stopped him, not after he had defeated Voldemort. Professor McGonagall had added, not only for his benefit but to Hermione's too, the privilege of using the Pensieve at any preferable time of the day also. She most likely guessed pretty well what kind of images were burned for eternity in their brains. It was the least, as the new headmistress, she could do for them.

The circular room appeared under Professor McGonagall's command much more clinical than under Professor Dumbledore. There were no obscure instruments; instead, there were uncountable old books and an openly displayed love for Quidditch. Each time Harry had to smile over this vast difference when he entered the office. Most of the formerly Headmasters were asleep in their paintings, at least it appeared to be like that. Only Dumbledore's was vacant. Harry took a deep breath he still hadn't completely forgiven his former mentor though Harry understood all of this was necessary to defeat Voldemort in the end.

The sight of the stonily Pensieve with its rich ornaments brought Harry back to his original task, why he was even here in the office at this time. It nearly felt like months before when he was about to watch Snape's memory. The only difference this time was Harry felt so much worst at the prospect to see Hermione's because of how they would affect him more.

Determined Harry closed the last gap between himself and the Pensieve. He uncorked the little bottle with shaking and damp hands, emptied its entire content in the Pensieve. First, he held his breath then he dove head over into the memory.

To Harry's surprise, he found himself, after opening his eyes, in the darkened hospital wing. Most of the beds were empty except for a few who were surrounded by a privacy screen. Inquisitive, he moved closer to the hidden beds. From one of them, Harry heard someone with a heavily shortened breath.

"Easy Miss Granger." Madam Pomfrey tried to reassure. "Shortly, you'll be able to breath more comfortable."

Effortlessly Harry walked through the screen and nearly fell right back again at the sight in front of him. The morbid fascination was more significant than his feeling of shame. In front of him on the hospital bed laid Hermione with an exposed torso, while Madame Pomfrey waved her wand in complicated movements over her body.

Harry's eyes slide over her immaculate body. Never before he had seen her like this, so vulnerable. All the more he felt uneasy like a voyeur, but he couldn't move. Just below her breasts, he saw a fresh angrily red scar which went in a bow across her navel down to the abdomen. Involuntary Harry reached his right-hand out before he could touch her marred skin he came to his senses. He had known about the scar but had no idea how it looked nor how enormous it was. Then Harry was far too busy by feeling guilty about losing Sirius and leading his friends into mortal danger.

"You may cover yourself again, Miss Granger." Madame Pomfrey finished the procedure.

Hermione sat up with difficulties despite the treatment her injuries still seemed to trouble her extremely. Slowly she buttoned her pyjama top.

"These potions you'll need to take daily the next few weeks. After that, you should make a full recovery." The matron instructed her young patient while putting a dozen corked bottles on the night table.

"What about the scar?"

Had Harry been that much in his world that he hadn't recognised how Hermione had even spoken strained or had she overplayed everything so thoroughly?

"It will remain. If you decide in a far future to want children, it might give you some troubles." Pomfrey hurriedly added when she saw how worried Hermione looked. "But nothing too serious a few well-placed spells should help you out then."

In the meantime, Harry began to wonder what about this memory really was. Did Hermione fear she couldn't fulfil Ron's wish for a big family?

"I'm terribly sorry for my rude interruption, Poppy, but I must have a word with Miss Granger."

Harry whirled in shock around when he heard the well-known voice of his former Headmaster. He hadn't noticed that Albus Dumbledore had stepped up behind him, how long already had Dumbledore been standing there?

"She needs rest, Albus!" Pomfrey complained.

"It's from uttermost importance that I speak with Miss Granger. Otherwise, I'd never disturb in this shameful way her time of recovery." The voice of one of the most influential wizards their time sounded tired but insisting.

This conservation must have been on the same day when Harry had learned about the prophecy. Hermione had never mentioned a single word that she had talked to Dumbledore.

"Be as it may, you should under no circumstances strain Miss Granger!" Madame Pomfrey warned the Headmaster before she hurriedly left.

Only after the doors to the hospital wing had been closed again, did Dumbledore turn to Hermione, who apparently waited for him to start.

"How are you, Miss Granger?"

Harry was very sure the Professor wasn't here because he was worried about her health.

"Better. How is -"

"Harry? To be honest with you, this is precisely why I'm here tonight." Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"What do you mean by that, did something happen to him?" Hermione was alarmed now and ready to leave her bed.

"Please, Miss Granger, calm down. He is well, at least, as well as under this circumstance to be expected." He laid his hand caringly on top of hers.

This didn't really soothe her open worry over Harry's well-being. It was very flattering for Harry that she obviously cared more for him than her health. But then again, he didn't know her any different.

"Harry is significant to you." Dumbledore stated with a mildly smile.

"He is my best friend."

"You have intense feelings for him."

At this point not only Hermione looked up but Harry too. From the elderly wizard to the young woman Harry kept staring at them in change. It just couldn't be.

"No." Harry whispered under his breath, but nobody heard him.

"How do you know?" Hermione's voice could hardly be heard.

"Noting in the halls of Hogwarts remains unnoticed by me, be assured by that, Miss Granger." Professor Dumbledore replied. "This and your behaviour."

"You act against better judgment only to stay with Harry. Break the rules, risk your very life without expecting anything in return. Miss Granger, you know as well as I do there is only one reason for humans that cause them to act like this." He explained to her.

Harry listened to his words but couldn't stop himself and kept watching Hermione the whole time as if he tried to solve her. She had been in love with him, alone the idea was unbelievable, but what had happened to change that? Had she fallen undyingly in love with Ron instead?

"All the worst is that I must ask this of you." Dumbledore appeared as if he had to carry something enormous.

"What is it?" Naive, ready to be any help for Harry, Hermione looked at her Headmaster.

"In the next weeks, years even, Harry is going to need as much support as possible, you can offer. You and Mr Weasley are the most important people in his life. Under no circumstances, he can afford to lose both of you. His survival depends on this." Dumbledore was by now speaking forcefully.

Hermione seemed to understand better than Harry in what direction this went. Her breathing became erratically and yet nodded.

"Especially your brain, your unbelievable sharp mind is what he is going to need. Without you, Harry will be lost entirely. That's why I must ask you without any doubt, this tremendous sacrifice of you so that he may have a chance to survive against Voldemort." Dumbledore continued.

Bit by bit, Harry understood that Hermione had never stopped being in love with him. An unknown bitterness began to spread in Harry when he realised how far Dumbledores manipulation really went.

"I understand." Hermione said in a choking voice.

"Harry needs your cool head, Miss Granger, not your heart."

"That's not true, don't believe any word he is saying, Hermione!" Burst out of Harry, despite the fact it was no use at all.

"This love can never be. Harry would try to protect you, and you weren't anymore able to assist him like it's in your unique ability to do. Can you make this kind of sacrifice? Can you bury your feelings for Harry so deep that he never knows of them?" Unspeakable sad sounded the old man now.

"For Harry?" Hermione fought with herself while tears were running slowly over her face. "Anything."


	3. Unearthed

_The truth is an incorruptible plant. One can try and bury her underneath a rock, but she will still break free in time. - Frank Thiess_

**Unearthed**

* * *

A thousand different thoughts swirled in Harry's mind, while he emerged from the Pensieve again. How much of his life was a lie and what if at all was true? Irrepressible anger rose in Harry, one that soon found an outlet by the sight of the empty magical painting of Albus Dumbledore. With as much force as possible Harry threw the little bottle, which had held Hermione's memory previously, towards the portrait through the room. It collided briefly with the wooden frame without to cause any visible damage before it landed in broken pieces in front of the writing desk.

"Potter, you haven't changed a bit, still the same arrogant fool as ever. You didn't actually expect to damage a magical painting this easily, did you?" snarled Professor Snape bored.

In a split of a second Harry whirled with a drawn wand around and glared at his former Professor, who in turn frowned from the screen at him with a single raised eyebrow.

"Snape!" Harry spat and would have liked nothing more than to hex him.

Snape, however, looked past him to the pensieve, where still the memory was swirling around. Then and again, a ghostly head of a fifteen-year-old Hermione reappeared and stated how she'd do anything for Harry.

"Dumbledore certainly had the talent to get people to sacrifice everything for love." unusually thoughtful, melancholic sounded Severus Snape.

"What do you know about it anyway?" Harry snarled scornfully.

"Lily -" Snape tried but got interrupted by Harry.

"A sickening claim of ownership over my mother got nothing, not in the very least something to do with love! You sold her, my entire family out to Voldemort. Did you at any point honestly believe my mother would have given me up without a fight, and afterwards come running in your arms after you basically killed her family?" He roared in blind anger.

A few times Snape opened his mouth to reply anything but chose to remain quiet instead. Harry, on the contrary, griped his hair in share frustration. Not even screaming at his least favourite Professor helped him to get a hold on his confused emotions.

"Maybe you are right, and I don't know a thing about love, but neither do you, Potter. Instead of getting on with your own life, you're here all sorry for yourself. Just as blind as before." came at least a reaction from Snape before he left his painting.

For a moment, Harry hold still, didn't move at all, but then as if he was on the run, he left the headmistress office in a hurry. In the corridors of the castle, a few ghosts tried to get the attention of the headboy, but he paid them no mind. The closer, he got to the headquarters, the less he understood what had been going on throughout the past two years of his life.

Had Hermione been with Ron just because of him? Harry could guess the answer; after all, he remembered too well how Ron had acted while on the hunt for the Horcruxes by the mere thought, Harry and Hermione could feel more for each other, he had abandoned them in a heartbeat. It all made bizarrely sense now how Hermione had been for days entirely beside herself as if she had failed at everything. Harry shook his head in disbelief, all the time he had thought Hermione had been this depressed because of her deep feelings for Ron but instead, it was the unendurable task Dumbledore had given her.

After the statue in front of the headquarters common room had moved aside, Harry had a clear view at Hermione how she sat on the couch. She was already in her pyjamas and seemed to pour over one of her school books. For the first time, he thought that she perhaps only used her love for books as a protective shield against him. To turn him away, to overplay that her mind lingered on him just like his was on her. That his mind tried to solve the riddle she had given him. How had she managed to hide her true feelings over months or had he been just that blind for her regard? More he thought about it all the less he had a fitting answer. Why had she kept it up after the war?

It must have been his steps she heard, though the carpet muffled them, but still loud enough that she looked up in time. The similarity to a shy deer was undeniable. Her secret was out in the open now, and Hermione probably wanted to be anywhere but here and face this confrontation with him. Harry couldn't take his eyes from her. He still tried to come to terms with what he heard learned about her. She, however, just returned to her book instead. At least Harry knew Hermione well enough to acknowledge she didn't read a single line.

"Why?" His voice sounded raw.

No reaction. Why had Hermione given him her memory if she didn't want to explain anything? His whole life of the past three years was on its head, and the only person he could talk all about it was Hermione. Hot anger rose again in him. Energetic, he walked to the couch and sat down right by her side.

"Why, Hermione?" Harry asked again.

She still didn't answer him.

"Damn it, put away that book and talk to me!" He had already got a hold on her tome and threw it across the room.

"You know already that I don't love Ron enough to marry him. I specifically gave you my memory to prevent any further discussions, obviously a mistake." She hissed now angrily at him.

Harry looked at her perplexed. Ron was the very last person on his mind, why was she even talking about him?

"Why have you done what Dumbledore asked you to do?"

He had expected anything but not that he heard her laugh bitterly.

"As if you didn't already know, Harry." Hermione replied, cynically.

"Would I ask you if I did?" He argued helplessly.

"At that time, I already knew how hopeless my feelings are for you, Harry. I'm neither naive or blind enough not to see that I didn't catch your interest and likely never will." She sounded to Harry's shock entirely clinical as if she had been long past this topic.

Only her sudden decision to stand up from the couch showed it was all but a facade.

"What is this even supposed to mean?" Harry looked up at her.

Slowly she closed her eyes like she was trying to calm herself.

"I can't help you there. I have enough humiliated myself for tonight." She pressed.

Just when Hermione was about to leave, Harry held her back by grasping her wrist and stood up himself. They were standing now in front of another.

"You believe you mean nothing to me, that you are just a helpful mind?"

A long silent moment followed, where she kept looking at him searchingly. Her eyes seemed to challenge him, that he proved her wrong.

"I just know that you don't feel for me, what I feel for you." Her voice slightly wavered when she told him her harsh truth.

At this moment, he only wanted to shake her and to question, what right she had to decide, what he was supposed to feel for her or not? Instead, he did something completely different, reckless even and kissed Hermione. Harry reached with one hand out to close the remaining distance between them and touched her left cheek softly while he tasted her lips for the first time. Tentatively she responded to his affection before she pushed him so hard away from her, he lost his balance and fell right back onto the couch.

Questioning Harry saw up to Hermione, waiting for that she'll slap him silly for his forwardness. To his utter surprise, Hermione took hold of his face instead with both hands in such a loveable, caring way it took his breath away. A movement that created an unknown feeling deep inside of him. Her tedious facade broke down in a matter of seconds. As soon as his lips, for the second time of this day felt her soft one's on his, he slowly realised Hermione had been waiting for all these years that he showed her any sign that her feelings weren't one-sided until she had given up on him.

Each touch from her felt so different than from other girls in comparison. Harry couldn't comprehend why it was that he had never felt so loved like this. She wasn't anymore only his best friend, who cared very much for books, was unbelievable smart but a young woman who wanted to be desired. Hermione kissed Harry impulsive full of passion while straddling his lap. He had fallen entirely under her enchantment. She was like a drug, one he desperately needed to get to know.

* * *

**Authornote:**

For a long time, I wanted to explore the possibility that Dumbledore planned, manipulated far more than canon actually implied. He was described as incredibly smart, wise and charismatic. Someone like that just doesn't need to potion teenager to get them to do what he wants. Sure Hermione is a brilliant girl, but she is still about 100 years younger too. What is better than using her Intelligenz, her loyalty and her feelings to guarantee that Harry acts like he was supposed to? 

Phoenixwriter


	4. Beginning

_Nothing is easier than self-deceit. For what each man wishes, that he also believes to be true. - ___Demosthenes__

**Beginning**

* * *

His senses were out of control; everything was new and exciting. Never Harry had thought he'd share this kind of intimacy with Hermione Granger. She always been out of reach for him, belonged to Ron, but it had been all a misconception. Only bit by bit caught his brain up from the impulse kissing her, to get what was happening now. However, it was too late his need to keep kissing, to caress her was far higher than any rational thought. Her tongue swept over his, and he was again lost in the sensation.

She was everywhere, the underlying smell of fresh roses he'd forever connect to her from now on, he thought while his lips shifted to her inviting jawline. Another detail he couldn't get enough from just like rooming his eager hands all over her didn't stop his hunger for more. Harry's hands moved now over her covered legs before he reached the hem of her trousers and with the urge to finally touch her bare skin, he let boldly glide one hand below, and Harry firmly pushed in interval Hermione's hips against his growing hardness. Eagerly his mouth was recaptured by hers, and he only heard a muffled whimper. This became each passing second more addictive and unstoppable for Harry.

"What are we doing?" Hermione breathlessly said while she had her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his.

He heard her from afar, like through a fog, but he had no interest in discussing what was happening between the two. Instead, he wanted to forget about the lies and to give in to the confusing but exciting feelings, finally, be egotistical. Harry caught her slightly swollen lips in another searing kiss, and she let him. Suddenly, hesitant now, and for the first time, he paused a second and touched with his free hand Hermione's face, locked eyes with her. Deep brown eyes were staring in his, her heavy breathing caressed his skin before she closed the gap between them again. Delicate, savouring became this kiss under her lead before he hungrily devoured the cares. Again Harry let his open mouth glide over the column of her exposed neck down to the beginning of her cleavage at the same time he started to unbutton her top.

Out of nowhere, Hermione grasped his hand and stopped his movement effectively. Softly but determined, she detracted herself from him.

"This shouldn't have happened." Hermione whispered.

Uncomprehending, Harry looked at her, only slowly he could follow her. She had gotten her emotions obviously better under control now than he.

"I'm sorry, Harry, please forgive me." She continued and kissed him for the last time then she stood up and returned to her private room.

Unbelievable long and in shock, Harry stayed back, alone in their common room. In waves overcame him single emotions, frustrated that Hermione had left him unsatisfied behind. Then anger that so much had been kept a secret from him and Hermione, someone he always could count on, was in the middle of it. It hurt surprisingly extensively as if she had sold him out like in their third year. Just this time, Harry couldn't follow her reasoning for her action. He had gotten so used to be disappointed by Ron, that despite the hurt feelings Harry still managed to get on fine and he always had Hermione to depend on too. Now though it was all different, all awry and there wasn't anyone he could turn to. On top of it all, he had by recklessly kissing Hermione put their whole relationship on the risk. Likely Harry hadn't stopped there either. If Hermione had wanted, he'd still make out with her, probably even go all the way. Harry was beyond any caution as if something deep inside of him had started a revolution against paternalism and external control of his life. The risk, the forbidden attracted Harry immensely.

In the early morning in his room, at last, he found a restless sleep. Various scenes kept playing through his mind, and his struggle to come to terms with the truth. Hermione, his best friend, had hidden feelings for him, and she had shown him just how real they were too. Like a starving man, he had reacted in kind, and Harry tried to grasp what it meant.

Too late for breakfast, perhaps just in time for the first lesson of the day, Harry woke up feeling absolutely whacked. In a hurry, he put on some fresh clothes and got on the way to the third floor. Charms was the very last thing on his mind, while he walked hurriedly through the corridors. It was lucky that he had his essay since days done just like his other homework for the day.

Despite Harry's stressful morning, he noticed how several characters in the paintings kept whispering to another, followed him around and even goggled at him. Nothing in Hogwarts stayed hidden, Dumbledores words to Hermione got a whole different meaning now, more like a threat. He shook his head, at this time, that early in the day he didn't need to strain his brain with that what had happened yesterday. Before Harry even reached the corridor toward the Charms classroom, he already heard the loud voices. Exactly this two people Harry had planned to avoid for the day, and now they were again in a massive argument.

"You own me at least an explanation." Ron growled.

He was in rage from afar Harry could recognise this at Ron's ears they were just in the same shade of red as his hair. He most likely had caught up on Hermione when she had entered the hallway. Now Ron was holding her back with a tight grasp on her upper arm so that she wouldn't escape. Her face, however, was somewhat contorted with pain, while she tried to break free. Surrounded were they by several students from different houses, who kept watching half-amused while the drama unfolds.

"Ron, let me go, you hurt me!" She fumed, but he was much stronger.

"Not before you tell me why?" He replied unyieldingly.

With long strides, Harry got closer to them. He didn't know what drove him; it was intuitive that Harry was about to interfere.

"She told you to let go of her!" He tried with an authoritative voice, and already then he felt how cold, unforgiving anger rose inside of him.

"Stay out of it, Harry, this is between Hermione and me." Ron rebuffed him roughly.

Hermione remained silent and looked from Harry to Ron. Her proximity had no soothing effect on Harry, contrary.

"Don't you love me anymore, is there somebody else?" Ron demanded to know of her.

"Ron, please!" Hermione said quietly.

Harry lost his patience. With his left hand, he grabbed the collar of Ron's uniform and yanked him away from her.

"Let, Hermione, go!" Harry shouted then he raised his right fist and punched Ron numerous times into his face, while the girls cried horrified out.

Backwards Ron let himself fall onto the floor with a surprised look, whereas Hermione kneeled to inspect the damage. All of Harry's anger, rage from the last weeks, months even had found its ventilation, and he didn't feel any remorse about it.

"Have you lost your mind completely?" Ron snapped at Harry and held a hand against his face.

Blood leaked from his nose and ran over his chin.

"Let me -"

"Don't touch me, Hermione!" Ron hissed. "I get it now."

He looked from Harry to Hermione and seemed to put one and one together.

"I knew the whole time that you had something with another." He accused them and stood up slowly.

"Why should you love somebody like me if you can have Harry Potter?" Ron continued.

"Oh, please, I can't take this anymore." Harry stated enraged.

Hermione shook vigorous her head at Harry in the hope to prevent that he spoke further.

"How long will you put up with this kind of shit, Hermione? His constant jealousy about what we share?" He screamed in frustration. "I'd give anything to have your life, Ron, to have loving parents, siblings. Instead, you're sorry for yourself, and you're not even trying to make something out of your life. Maybe you should talk to your family rather than to remind us always how unloved you feel?"

Ron's face turned into an interesting shade of red while Harry kept ranting. Hermione's face, however, became stony by the second.

"Be happy with another." Ron said before he turned and fled the corridor probably to get to the hospital wing.

Hermione moved closer to Harry, who watched her with eagle eyes. Even if he wanted to, he just couldn't look away not after what had happened.

"What were you thinking?" She spoke in an undertone so only Harry could hear her and the other students would return to their problems instead to ogle at the head couple.

"He hurt you. You don't believe I'd stand by and watch?" His voice still sounded angry though he whispered now.

Involuntary, Harry reached out with one of his hands and touched her cheek fleetingly. Hermione closed her eyes as if savouring the gesture. Indeed, she was about to turn into his new addiction though he didn't even know what he felt. Before Harry could take hold of her face, she removed his hand from her. All to keen that nobody would notice any changes between them.

"This is not what I meant, Harry." She scolded him half-hearted and let him indirectly know she didn't agree to violence either. "Was it really necessary to tell him all that after I declined his proposal?"

"It was about time, Hermione. In past weeks I took to many considerations regarding Ron. I don't plan to live my life walking on eggshells around him, while he can do whatever he likes." He raged.

"Harry." Hermione warned him and squeezed his hand, but it was already too late.

"Why are you excusing him all the time, you aren't even in love with him?" He inquired.

Hermione was busily looking around, but they were lucky enough the other students were all too far away to hear anything at all.

"Don't you see what I'm trying to do?" She hissed now in anger.

"What, living a lie? That we all end up in one big happy hypocritical family?" Barely Harry had spoken out his ludicrous exaggeration when he learned he had hit the mark by accident.

"Ginny is your girlfriend; you love her! What do you think who I'm going to be to you as soon as we leave Hogwarts, Harry?" Her voice was firm when she told him her fear.

Harry blinked several times; he had all forgotten about Ginny. They had been for weeks in a crisis if not already, since they had gotten back together. Despite this, she meant something to him. It was like a veil, a memory of an untroubled moment; he just couldn't let go yet.

"Come on, Charms begins." Hermione informed him and turned around to get into the classroom.

* * *

**Authornote:**

In this story, I'm going for a questionable Harry. I like to think humans aren't perfect and tend to err a lot of the time, but most have good intention. The problem is we want to believe the end justifies the means. The Harry Potter books show, in my opinion, this sentiment very well and this might be precisely the reason for me, why the end felt so hollow because there isn't anyone left questioning the means.

Thanks for reading and your reviews

Phoenixwriter


	5. InVinoVeritas

**In Vino Veritas**

* * *

Not much had changed in the darkest pub of Hogsmeade after the second magical war was over. The stone floor was still hardly recognisable as such; the wooden tables were sparsely decorated with a single candle, and yet the hogshead was now well visited. It was Hogsmeade weekend and the older students, who had fought in the war, spend their free evening here.

A few years ago it had been unthinkable, but this tavern got famous because of the part it played in the war. The fact one could without much trouble get the hands-on alcohol didn't make it any less popular. The tables were all occupied, and there was a line of people standing at the bar too. Aberforth Dumbledore had lately hired help to manage the workload on such weekends; even magic had its limits.

"Nev, you've to invite Susan to a drink; otherwise you'll never have a chance." Seamus Finnigan sat next to Neville Longbottom, who kept glancing towards a group of girls in the far corner of the pub.

"Seamus is right, Mate. You need to get active." Dean Thomas agreed and drank from his glass.

They were still drinking met. Neville sighed miserably as he saw, how out of all people, Ron Weasley approached Susan and began to flirt with her. The beautiful blond laughed without a doubt about some funny anecdotes he just told her. Ron had everything that Neville had not.

"Too late. Ron discovered her too." Luna remarked dryly without to look up from her magazine.

For a moment they saw irritated to her. Probably wondered, how she could in a pub full of people, still manage to browse the quibbler.

"Well, Nev, next time you are got to take your chance." Seamus smirked and hit him on the shoulder.

A crooked smile appeared on Neville's face. He seriously doubted there'll be another time. Even though he earned due the war some fame, he still was just as shy as before when he pursued a girl.

"You know, a woman may like it if you flirt offensive at first, but in the long run, they prefer honesty." Dean told him his insight.

"Right, Dean, why don't you tell us all about your immense knowledge of the female population?" Ginny's sarcastic comment let him turn around.

Through the crowd, Ginny Weasley had finally found her way back from the bar to their table. She was holding a full tray of fuming glasses with an amber coloured liquid inside.

"I thought you wanted to get a whole bottle?" The disappointment was hard to miss in Luna's voice.

It was the first time this evening that she seemed to thaw a bit.

"They stopped giving them out for today. Apparently, they already got enough trouble, no idea what she was talking about. The new waitress is such a killjoy." Ginny grumbled while she served each of them a glass.

The red-haired young woman took a seat next to Neville, who had emptied his met by now.

"She likes you." She said casually.

"Who?" Neville's facial expression indicated he didn't follow her.

"Susan, of course!"

"Oh yes, we can see that, Ginny, nice try." Luna laughed without humour and looked over her magazine.

At the other table, Ron and Susan were in a deep conversation with each other. She seemed to enjoy his attention immensely. Luna lowered her eyes back to the page; she had been reading. It wasn't a secret that she still held a torch for the ginger young man.

"There are enough pretty women out there. No reason to be depressed." Seamus piped up.

"Don't listen to him. He has no clue." Ginny tried again.

"I've got eyes in my head, that's all I need."

"Do we have to discuss Neville's none existing love life, sorry mate but it's true, or are we going to take care of the firewhiskey?" Dean complained.

"Right he is. Come on, let's have a drink." It was, however, Luna, who to their surprise, agreed and raised her glass.

At times she was still the same dreamy person they had gotten to know, but at others, she was everything but. They had discussed her behaviour more than once and came to a conclusion it probably came down to her experience through the war. Each of them had their scars to nurse after all.

"To us!" Ginny exclaimed.

They toasted to each other and drowned the whiskey, which burned in their cavity. Steam emerged from their heads, yet they silly smiled.

"This is one of the best parts to be off age." Ginny let out.

"Not to mention, you are allowed to use magic outside the school." added Dean.

"And to do whatever you like without the supervision of your parents." Seamus continued self-righteous.

They all knew how much she had looked forward to becoming off age. Since August she had counted up all benefits.

"If any of you had six older brothers and very protective parents, than you could understand me better."

"Especially after you proved last year that you are more than capable of looking after yourself." Neville agreed.

"Someone at least." Ginny beamed at him.

"Well, at least you're good in giving compliments, Nev." Seamus laughed. "But she's already taken."

The first tentative real smile vanished from Neville's face again.

"You're sometimes such an ass, Seamus!" snapped Ginny at him.

"Hey, I didn't do anything." Innocently he raised his hands.

"Get us better a new round." Dean interrupted the beginning of an argument.

Thankfully Seamus stood up and made his way through the crowd.

It wasn't a secret either that Ginny's relationship with Harry was a very rocky one. They were avoiding each other after their latest argument like the plague. Both were incredibly stubborn and thought they didn't need to apologise first. Secretly Ginny had hoped with the debacle of Ron's failed proposal; people would forget about her troubled relationship with Harry. She had been clearly wrong; they were right in the middle of the storm.

"Maybe you should react like your brother, Ginny." Dean's voice stopped the flow of her thoughts.

"No chance, this is long over and done." She replied in a much better mood.

The boys were so transparent at times. Dean probably harboured still feelings for her and hoped for a second chance.

Not all the tables were fully seated like theirs. In the farthest corner, the darkest part of this tavern at one table all seats were vacated a single lone figure, his Hood drawn deep in his face, and drank.

Neville looked away from Ron and Susan. He just couldn't keep watching. Instead, he let his eyes wander through the room. The table in the dark corner and the fact this guest had a half-full bottle of firewhiskey standing in front of him had caught Neville's attention. Seamus returned before Neville could share his discovery with Ginny, Dean and Luna.

"You won't believe it." Seamus excitingly talked right away and put the full tray abruptly down on the table a few of the glasses tipped over.

"Damn, be careful!" Dean grumbled.

Meanwhile, one could hear loud voices and how glasses shattered not that far from the bar away. Ron was standing next to Susan and argued angrily with the waitress. Noisily several guests kept following the disturbance.

"What's going on there?" Ginny demanded.

Only parts, snippets of the argument could be heard. Before it could get out of hands, the black-haired young woman got a hold on Ron's arm and dragged him outside the pub.

"Don't you recognise her?" Seamus quizzed them.

Neville shrugged the shoulders, while Dean looked utterly clueless.

"Pansy Parkinson." Luna drawled unimpressed.

"What is she doing here and most of all, what got Ron to do with her?" Only silence was Ginny's answer.

"Let's have a drink." Dean sounded a bit bored.

He had expected more from this evening.

"Forget it. I've to go to the ground of this." It was Neville, who held Ginny by taking her hand in his back.

"Ron is old enough!"

Perplexed, she stilled her movements and locked eyes with him. As if she came back to her senses and sat back down. Ginny would soon enough learn all about it. The last couple of days had been about Ron; it was enough now, she decided.

Together, they drank the next round of firewhiskey. Neville had forgotten the lone person in the corner. The hogshead had just been back to regular busy business when the door got roughly opened up, and a student came heavily breathing in.

"Headstudent incoming!" He cried.

Hastily all trays with the little glasses full of strong alcohol vanished. Nobody was keen to get a predict how irresponsible it was to be so loose or worst the threat the headmistress will be informed of this behaviour. Though Professor McGonagall most likely already knew what on Hogsmeade weekends in this pub happened, the warning still worked.

Once more, the door got opened and the fresh air of the evening blew into the stuffy taproom. Clothed in a cloak, Hermione Granger entered the pub. Several pair of eyes glanced at her as if she single-handed destroyed the enormous fun they had. She really didn't care for that at the moment though. Her concern was Harry Potter, just like throughout their Hogwarts years. He had ignored his headboy duties completely. The whole day he had gone missing.

The headmistress had informed Hermione and questioned her if she knew anything. Naturally, she had told the Professor a story about how Harry needed to get in touch with Gringotts. It was utterly fabricated, of course yet believable enough to buy her time.

"What does she want here?" hissed Ginny, when she saw Hermione.

After the disaster with Ron and his silly claim, Harry had something going on with Hermione; Ginny couldn't even stand the sight of the other girl.

"Maybe, firewhiskey?" Luna asked drily.

Ginny sardonically laughed.

Systematic Hermione looked around. Many familiar faces she saw, but only after Hermione crowed past the bar, she found Harry. His whole attitude gave him away. With worry, she registered that the bottle of firewhiskey was only half-full and he was just about to empty another glass of the amber coloured drink. Without preamble, Hermione sat down to the chair right in front of him. Harry had drawn the hood of his cloak so deep into his face; only his chin was visible. He stilled his movements, put his glass back on the table and waited for any reaction from her, but none came.

"Are you here to lecture me?" His voice sounded raw, and it was unmissable that he was tipsy.

"Don't you think you had enough?" Hermione whispered vigorously.

Harry laughed bitterly. For her, it was unpleasant to sit here. Her whole body language screamed of aversion. The arms were crossed over her breasts. Her face a grimace of disgust. Hermione's assessment awoke Harry's conscience. A few seconds prior, he had felt relieved that he was able to sit here undetected and was allowed for a chance to be a regular person.

Unrelenting, he put his glass back against his lips.

"Harry!" Hermione warned.

Involuntary Harry smirked.

"Drink with me!" He challenged her surprisingly.

Appalled, she stared at him when he put down the drink in front of her.

"You can't be serious."

"I will only leave with you if you finish with me this bottle." he replied, half amused.

The Hood in the meantime had slipped that far, one could now see his bloodshot eyes.

"You don't want any scene, now do you?" He added.

Harry saw how it worked in Hermione, how she weighed which options there were. Her anger at him because he put her into this situation. He downright enjoyed seeing her like that, to challenge her.

"Don't even think about it." He had seen how for a second her right hand twitched.

She punished him with a disapproving look before she seized the glass and emptied it in one go. Hermione grimaced, while the firewhiskey found its way through her body, slammed the shot glass on the table and breathed heavily.

"How can you drink something so disgusting?" She demanded shockingly.

"You get used to it." He filled the glass up again and emptied it.

"You know as well as I do, this isn't a solution." She spoke while he made her another shot ready.

"Who said that I'm looking for a solution in the first place?" Harry put down the bottle and waited for her to take her drink.

Nervously Hermione swallowed. Now that she knew how firewhiskey tasted and burned, it had become a more significant challenge to gulp down this terrible stuff. Alone, Harry's presence spurred her on to drink the alcohol. This time it burned less strongly in her mouth and left behind a slightly numb feeling.

"I just want to forget, stop thinking about it, only for a while." Harry kept talking melancholic.

"What can be so terrible -" Hermione interrupted herself and started anew. "It's not because of what happened yesterday?"

"Merlin, no, it's not you or what happened between us." Harry shook his head, grabbed her hand to emphasise his words.

It had a completely different effect on both, while he felt a powerful draw to be close to her again, she seemed to prefer the distance. Hermione hadn't the slightest idea how her traits of deepest trust and her need to protect those she cared about had played perfectly into Dumbledore's hands. Once again, he shook his head; he must not repeatedly think about it. The bottle was nearly empty now.

"We should really go, students are already looking. If anyone finds out that you're here drinking firewhiskey and this as headboy." Hermione saw unsettled around.

"Actually, they only see you how you get shamelessly drunk." He replied just in time when Hermione was about to drink another shot.

She choked on the strong alcohol so that it leaked at the corner of her mouth. Uncaring, she tried to wipe away most of it with the back of her hand.

"What are you gawping at?" She let out.

Her head felt lighter; she got warmer, and the desire to please everyone vanished. The other students turned under noisily whisper away. At least they didn't need to fear the headgirl would give them away.

"You're right; we really should leave." Harry gave in.

It wasn't his intention to get her in trouble, and yet it pleased him that the perfect picture got a scratch. Surprisingly with difficulty, she stood up, had to keep a grip on the chair to stay in balance.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, worriedly, but she declined.

"I'm not used drinking such strong stuff, but I'll manage." Hermione placated him and went ahead.

By opening the front door though she staggered a bit, the fresh night air intensified the effect of the alcohol on her.

"You sure?" Harry put an arm around her.

In retrospect, he shouldn't have instigated her to drink with him firewhiskey.

"Give me a moment."

Deeply Hermione breath in the nightly air, the fog in her head lifted. It had been just a few shots. She was astonished how much the alcohol got to her.

"Very soon I won't be able -" An agitated voice of a young woman reached them.

Suspicious Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Obviously, they weren't alone outside.

"This isn't my problem, okay?" They heard the scandalised voice of Ron Weasley.

Together, they went a few steps. Just when they were about to leave the shadow of the building of hogshead, Harry held Hermione back. Around the corner, against a wall were Ron and a young black-haired girl in an argument.

"Damn it, Weasley, you've just as much responsibility as I'm." Wild gesticulating the young woman tried to reason with Ron.

"Leave me alone! It isn't mine, Pansy!" Ron replied, stubbornly.

Hermione looked with big eyes at Harry as she got who the other person was.

"Since months the ministry is searching for Parkinson. What got Ron to do with her?" She whispered.

"I'm not too keen to get to the bottom of this. " Harry countered rougher than intended.

"Let's go." He added.

Reluctantly Hermione gave in and together they chose a different path back to Hogwarts. The gnawing question, what Ron had going on with Pansy Parkinson didn't leave them the whole way alone. When they finally arrived at the head common room, they sat down tiredly onto the red couch.

"What is it that you want to forget so urgently?" Hermione interrupted the sudden silence.

"You really don't want to know." Harry whispered.

They sat side by side on the couch, her head laid against the backrest.

"Harry, I wouldn't ask if I didn't." She tried encouraging.

Throughout the evening, he had been deeply melancholic only at times a different mood lurked through. Harry turned towards her with an intensive look on him.

"Do you really love me?" His voice faltered slightly, so uncertainty he questioned her.

"Yes." She heavily swallowed. "I love you, Harry."

For a long while, he just watched her before he shook his head, leaned back against the sofa and looked up to the ceiling.

"You're the first person who told me that, and I don't understand why? I mean, why do you feel like that, if nobody else does?"

Shocked Hermione heard him speak brokenly, while slowly tears ran over his cheek.

"This isn't true, so many people love or loved you. The Weasleys, your friends and Ginny." She attempted to comfort him, but he shook his head.

"It's all part of the plan."

"What plan, what are you talking about?" Hermione inquired astounded.

"Everything, my whole life was planned. It was fully intended that I grew up by the Dursleys with all consequences, unaware of the magical world and who I am. So I wouldn't become arrogant. Perhaps to prevent that I might ask too many questions when the time came to fulfil my quest. Like a dutiful soldier or a swine ready for slaughter." He explained intensively.

"Harry!" appalled Hermione sat up and grabbed his hand.

"In Snape's memory was this his wording. Dumbledore had plotted this, do you understand? He knew I had a part of Voldemort in me, and that's why he had to make sure I would readily sacrifice myself when the time came. Even you, Hermione -" Harry interrupted himself, swallowed and locked eyes with her, while his were still bloodshed hers were teary by now. "If I had known, I don't think I could have -"

In seconds Hermione got the whole picture, the immense impact his words truly had. The realisation nearly choked her throat up.

"No, this can't be." almost hysterically she cried out. "Oh, God!"

Then she bit into her fist to prevent herself from screaming, while tears were now streaming down her face.

"I helped him that it would be easier for you to die!" Hermione said it finally aloud, and Harry only nodded miserably, shut his eyes briefly as if the truth was this way more bearable.

"Please, Harry, you've to, believe me, I had no idea. Never, I had -" a loud sob interrupted her.

* * *

**Authornote:**

Usually, I'm looking over the chapters at least three times before I publish them. In this case, I missed another check through, simply because I was unable to access my PC, where I can work through errors much more comfortable. I hope it's now a better read.

Phoenixwriter


	6. Tearing and Breaking

**Tearing and Breaking**

* * *

"Please, calm down." Harry clasped her wrist with one hand, then touched her right shoulder with his other. "Hermione, it's alright."

It was frightening to see his best friend this distraught. At least since the Battle of Hogwarts Harry knew of his role as a puppet, a simple chess piece against Voldemort but not how far the manipulation really went. It had needed Hermione's memory to let him realise how much his life had been a farce. Now Harry understood that he had been naive. But what could have been expected? He, Harry, had been a neglected eleven-year-old child craving for kindness and love. A magical world full of wonder though with some errors but with the very first friendly people in his life appearing at the right moment. Professor Dumbledore had been known as the most important, powerful wizard of their time, and by chance, he showed real interest in Harry. He understood Harry's pain, this deep longing for a family when Harry sat in front of the mirror of erised. It had been all but a trick, nothing but a smart strategy to bring Voldemort to fall.

Hermione's hand was shaking while Harry pulled it away from her mouth.

"I really had no idea." She repeated pleadingly.

"It's okay." He declared softly and gazed at her profoundly. "It isn't your fault at all."

"But it is, Harry!" Hermione disagreed hotly and sat up abruptly, proceeded to move out of his reach.

They had sat so intimately together that Harry missed her body warmth instantly. Maybe it was his drunken state, but he felt only now how cold the common room was despite the fire in the fireplace.

"I shouldn't have fallen in love." She stated this as if it was the most obvious conclusion.

"It wouldn't have changed anything." Harry insisted aghast. "Dumbledore would have found just another way to accomplish his plan."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Harry looked at her with so much intent, she chose to remain silent. When precisely did he start to look at her differently? Before he knew of her secret, there had been already none platonic moments between the two. The past days had pulled the floor under his feet, and everything had become boundless. Slowly, thinking became difficult. The strong alcohol finally led to cognitive impairment.

Tiredly, Hermione leaned back against the couch and avoided to look at him. The fire put the room in soft, warm orange light. Like a portrait, one Harry couldn't figure out he kept looking to this young woman in front of him. Since the first year, they knew each other, were best friends yet now he saw her with different eyes. She had her head, just like Harry, leaned back. The brown hair was pinned up, and single strands were loose. Even though her eyes were closed, he knew, she must have noticed that he was still observing her. Now and then he recognized how Hermione swallowed, like another invitation at him.  
He sat up, bracing his head with his left hand. Now, Harry could look directly at her face and noticed she wasn't that relaxed. Hermione breathed deeply, like someone who tried to remain in control.

"Are you alright?" worried and with a feeling, he might be responsible for her state, he caressed her face.

After all, he had encouraged her to drink firewhiskey. Hermione smiled at his touch. In a sudden movement, she held his hand against her cheek. Fascinated, like in an enchantment, Harry watched how she opened her eyes and probably waited that he would drawback, he didn't though. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his fingers. Slightly, Hermione turned her head, and her lips caressed his palm. If imaginable, they were even more delicate. It took his breath away when their eyes locked. In her brown eyes, he could see so much dedication and longing before he felt her lips on his own.

Tentative but also desirous, she kissed Harry as if he would reject her. He didn't waste a single thought at it, contrary he had become all along addicted to her. This excitement and new emotions she had initiated in him by their first kiss, he wanted to feel again. Enthusiastic, he returned her touch, which hurriedly turned intense, hungry. Hermione leaned towards Harry, followed his mouth, and he drew her closer. He couldn't get enough, couldn't stop his hands from exploring. Her hands, one gripping his hair, another sliding down his back and her sighing, told him it wasn't at all different for her.

She was everywhere, her unique floral smell in his nose, the taste of her skin and her warm breath on his. Harry's senses were caught in a whirlwind of sensual impressions. His kisses were wandering from her mouth to her chin then neck. Maybe it was, how unclear Hermione whispered his name while his hand slide over her thigh or that he could still taste the Whiskey on her tongue when they kissed passionately, that he paused for a moment. By now Harry was laying on the couch his shirt half undone and Hermione on top of him. Her shirt was in a similar state. Like a powerful storm, it had all started fast and unyielding. But just as rapidly slowed down and stopped altogether.

* * *

The lands of Hogwarts were still covered by fog, yet the icy clear blue sky promised already a beautiful day ahead. The sun was just about to get up, and it was silent in the impressive Castle. On Sunday's it took hours until the school became fully awake. Harry Potter clothed in his Quidditch uniform and his Firebolt in his hand walked through the deserted corridors. In a few weeks would be the highly anticipated Quidditch final against Slytherin. He needed to be in top shape for this occasion. However, this wasn't by far the sole reason why he was at these gods forsaken hour on his feet and needed to get some flying done over the field.

He desperately needed a clear head, peace to consider what was going on in his life, what it meant but most of all, how to proceed? Everything was either not decided or completely put on its head. Frustrated, he breathed out, he wasn't in any mood to explore at this hour of the day the complexity of the new chaos in his life. When he rounded in another corridor, he saw Ginny, probably on the way to the training also, walking in front of him. In her Quidditch Uniform, Harry always had liked her best, but right now, he was too upset to appreciate the sight.

Harry had no desire to fly with Ginny. They hadn't talked since the disastrous evening of Ron's birthday when Hermione had declined Ron's proposal.

"Good Morning, Harry." Ginny exclaimed happily as soon as she saw him and shortened the distance between them.

Before he could react, she kissed him as if everything was okay between them. Harry didn't give in to her caresses; in turn, she kept it by a fleeting peek.

"Are you done with feeling sorry for Hermione?" Ginny inquired. "Me too with Ron." She continued while he remained silent.

Purposefully her talking began angering him. Ginny didn't seem to care; she enjoyed extensively to amuse herself over the clumsy love life of her brother. Many time Harry had told her that he didn't want to hear anything about Ron's and Hermione's relationship and how foolish, jealous they acted. At first, in Harry's sixth year, it had been funny, charming even how similar he and Ginny thought about the absurd situation. Finally, after the war, after the Horcrux Hunt, he didn't find it funny anymore but irritating, annoying.

"Don't worry, Harry. It will all work out. Hermione just got cold feet. In a few days, she'll be with Ron again, if he takes her back, that's it."

"Gin!" Harry had enough. He didn't want to have this kind of conservation.

To his surprise, she stopped talking. Instead, she stared at him. Only now it came to his mind that Ginny most likely needed a topic, any topic to talk about and essentially avoided a discussion over the state of their relationship. Here it was, the moment, he was going to end his relationship with Ginny officially. She knew this, too; he could read it in her eyes.

"I can't do this anymore." Harry finally said matt.

"You don't want to be together with me anymore?" She requested to know in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Not as a couple, yes!" To his astonishment, Ginny grinned and shook her head.

"Ron got it right after all. I should have known better." She whispered to herself.

"It's because of her, isn't it?" Ginny held him back when Harry was about passing her.

Seconds he looked at her but wasn't truly able to deny her accusation. The past days had something to do with his decision. Finally, to say out loud, what was for a while their reality already.

"We haven't been together for weeks." Harry tried to make her understand that their relationship inevitable was broken.

"Because you won't understand -"

"No, you don't get me, Ginny! It's over and done." He interrupted her harshly and saw to his horror how tears were gathering in her eyes.

"Don't you love me anymore?" Harry closed strainingly his eyes; he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"No," He cleared his throat. "no longer."

An eternity they stood in front of each other until Ginny couldn't stand it anymore to be near him and hurried snivelling pass him, knocking lightly against his shoulder, flaming red hair flying, back to the Gryffindor Tower.

In long strides, Harry left the Castle. He was desperately in need to get his mind on something different. Everything was slowly suffocating him, too much drama that he couldn't get his mind around anymore. Flying was in comparison, secure and promising that this activity would allow him to forget all his troubles if just for a while. He reached the Quidditch Pitch and held still for the first time on this young morning he was allowed to enjoy the fresh breeze, the warming sunlight, but most of all the silence. Deeply Harry breathed in, let the cold, clear air in his body then he mounted his Firebolt and pushed himself from the ground. Icy cold, from on second to the next, overflowed the wind his body. Fast-paced, he drew higher and higher into the sky just to spiral down again. Reckless flight manoeuvres followed until he got some steam off and flew slower.

Just then, he looked searchingly around, and he wasn't disappointed. On top of the Gryffindorstands she was sitting, her eyes glued to a tome. Despite everything, Hermione hadn't forgotten her promise. Harry couldn't ignore how much this familiar sight of his best friend lifted his heart. From afar he could, without any disturbance, watch her how she pondered a bit before she returned to the page and read on. It was windy on the stands; single hair strands were falling into her face. Harry grinned as he saw how she tried in vain to brush a rather stubborn strand behind her ear. At last Hermione had to take a break from her reading, to tame her hair. As soon as she looked up, her brown eyes detected him, and a shy smile arose on her face.

Seconds later, Harry landed on the wooden stands. Strange how much the tension grew, now that he was about to speak with Hermione for the first time. In the morning, he had woken up all alone on the couch. She hadn't been in anywhere near. His skull had been pounding like mad, but he could remember the evening vividly. Harry couldn't understand himself. Why had he been unable to resist her, why couldn't he stop touching her? Only days prior, Hermione didn't have this strong appeal on him. Laid the temptation only in the knowledge of her feelings for him?

"Hey!" He greeted Hermione.

"Hey yourself." She returned brightly.

That's when Harry knew they were okay. Relieved, he took a seat next to her. The book that laid in her lap appeared to be very old and thick. For a split moment, he weighed to find out what she was reading. Searchingly he looked at her, and she returned it with a raised brow. Harry laughed; they still could communicate without words.  
"I have missed you." Harry blurted out.

Hermione stared at him in shock, while her cheeks turned in a faintly pink. Only then he understood how misleading his statement had been

"No! I mean -" Further he spoke more he put his foot into his mouth.

"This!" Harry grabbed her hand. "Us. I've missed us."

Clumsy, he tried to explain, and Hermione's encouraging squeeze of his hand, a small smile on her lips showed she did.

"Me too." She conceded.

This reunion wasn't a stolen moment, not overshadowed by a third party who despised the fact that Harry and Hermione spend time with each other in the vastly mundane way. Though the true nature of their relationship was in question, to have this essential understanding back was an enormous relief to Harry. So much so, that he felt reckless.

"Come, Hermione and fly with me?" He requested while standing up.

Perplexed she opened her mouth but thought better of it.

"Harry, we need to talk!" She finally said what he had been expecting since their first kiss.

"Afterwards, we will, I promise."  
Hermione struggled visible with herself, whether she should accept his offer or not?

"I'm not that bad at flying, you know?" Harry joked and tried to tempt her.

Bashfully she laughed at that, and he knew he had won her over.

"But not too fast." Nervously she bit her lip.

With a big triumphant smile, Harry led her to his broom and mounted it. He indicated her to follow his example. It took Hermione a bit; she appeared to have doubts about her decision. Barely he felt how she put her arms from behind around him, slight uneasy breathing against his neck. All this, the proximity, the touching send a shiver over his body.

"Closer!" He took her right arm and put it much closer around his waist.

Now she was practically hugging him.

"Better?" She whispered huskily close to his ear.

Hermione's breath tickled his neck. Deeply Harry breathed in, tried to calm down. He hadn't expected how much it would affect him to be this close to her.

"Perfect." He replied and pushed them off.

The wind brushed through his hair, and at the same time, Hermione tightened her grip on him, buried her face in his neck.

"Goodness, in what did I get myself into?" He heard her mutter.

Gentle, he put his left hand on top of hers.

"Harry, I would appreciate it if you use both hands for flying." Hermione commented promptly in an abrasive tone.

"Do you trust me?" Baffled she looked at him, even forget that they were several meters above the ground and should actually strangulate him.

"With my life." she naturally responded.

"No matter what happens, I won't let you fall, okay?" Hermione nodded. "Let's enjoy this fantastic view, then."

Indeed, from this height, they had a look over the whole landscape of Hogwarts. The orange light of the morning sun drew everything softer. Even the forbidden Forrest appeared harmless and rather romantic how it nestled against the lake. The Castle with all its towers seemed more majestic.

"Beautiful." She breathed.

Complacent, Harry turned his head to look at her. Their faces were merely a few centimetres apart. He couldn't miss how brightly her eyes shone.

"Harry, lookout." Hermione suddenly cried before he could say anything.

His head leapt back forwards, in last second they could evade the projectile.

"What in the devil's name!" He growled in anger, but then he noticed that another bludger was flying towards them.

They went into a rapid dive to avoid a collision.

"Have you seen how many bludgers there are?" Harry demanded urgently.

"It must be four." She informed in a shaky voice.

In the distance at the sidelines, he saw the cause Ron Weasley haul even more bludgers at them.


	7. Responsibility

**Responsibility**

"Right!" Hermione cried, and Harry flew left, pulled the broom steadily higher.

The bludger was flashing close by.

"Ahead!" They went into a spectacular dive, and another iron ball rushed past them.

"You can fly with just one hand, right?" They flew with high speed through the air.

Harry nodded.

"Good, then hold my left arm tightly with your right." She instructed him matter-of-factly.

Before Hermione had finished, Harry got already hold of her arm.

"What are you doing?" He demanded while he felt how she removed one arm from his waist.

Over his right shoulder, he saw that she pointed her wand toward a nearing bludger. Seconds later it exploded in a thousand little particles.

"Harry!"

He had been so surprised by her casting that he had forgotten to look out for further missiles.

They barely avoided a direct collision with a sharp pull to the right. Still, the broom vibrated and Harry noted a jolt. He could hold with insistence their course.

"Are you alright?" Harry requested when he discovered that her clasp on him began to slip.

"Tighter, hold me tighter!" Her voice was contorted with pain.

Another bludger exploded a few metres in front of them. Hermione was fit enough to do magic, yet his concern grew. But first, they were in need to land in one piece and to accomplish that he had to focus on flying.

"Left!" It was just a whisper, and Harry's reaction was delayed accordingly.

Once again, it was a close call, but from the right, he saw another projectile rushing towards them. Too late, they went into a dive. The impact of the metal against his temple was massive.

"Harry, please, you've to pull up!" The forceful shaking of his shoulders, the energetically yet weak voice but at last how her soft lips ghostly touched his cheek got him out of the drowsiness.

"One we've to eliminate in the air. The last two while we're landing." She told him when they were going up again.

Harry nodded yet still felt dizzy. The fresh air and the adrenaline banished the numbness soon.

"Right!" He took a sharp left curve.

In the background, he heard a bang.

"Land!" She commanded.

Roughly, they came down in the middle of the Quidditch Field. Harry drew his wand at once. The last bludgers blew up at the same time.

"Wait till I get my hands on him!" Harry scornfully breathed and was about to run after Ron and to search the castle for him.

Ron had just run off after he had set eight training and two tournament bludgers on them.

"Don't!" It was so faint, yet it held Harry back.

Harry spun around and was frozen by the sight of Hermione. She was down on her knees. Her left arm hung useless at her side, and her shoulder was bleeding through the pullover. Most of all, it was her face that frightened him. It was bloodstained, and from a wound on her temple, even more, blood was welling.

Like through a fog, Harry hurried back to her, wild panic, fear was ruling him.

"I deserve it; after all, I broke Ron's heart." She said, exhausted.

"Hermione!" Harry was kneeling by her side now.

Close up her wounds looked to him worst. He couldn't understand why Ron, no matter the reason, would take the risk to hurt Hermione that severally as the result of his outburst?

"You're bleeding, Harry." She stated weakly as soon as she saw him and touched his face with her hand.

This gesture had such a surprising effect on Harry that he shrunk back. Here she was severely injured yet worried about his well-being. Indeed, when she pulled her hand away from him, it was smeared with blood too.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing. Can you walk?" His voice was rough. Nothing seemed to matter but Hermione.

With difficulty, she stood up, swayed slightly, but Harry was at her side and supported her. Together at a slow pace, they nearly reached the front gate of the castle before her legs gave way again, and she was back on her knees.

"I'm -" She flattered and wet her lips. "I'm sorry, Harry, I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that yesterday."

Truly aghast, he stared at her. Hermione was practically lying in his arms, and he didn't know what to do.

"Stay with me, Hermione!" Desperately he held her face.

Her eyes turned more glassy by the second.

"Emergency medicine. You need to use magic, Harry!" She fought to remain conscious, but he understood what she tried to tell him.

In his fear, he had forgotten that he was actually a wizard and could wield his wand to stabilise her.

"I carry you." after Harry had cast a few spells, Hermione's eyes were focused again, and the all-consuming panic slowly subsided from him.

"I'm too heavy!" She protested.

"I'm sure magic will help with that too." He replied now in amusement.

* * *

The light shone in lines through the large windows and illuminated the dust particles floating across the corridor. From here, it wasn't that far to the room of requirements. Harry hoped to catch Ron before he would reach it. According to the map, he was close.

Harry had left the hospital wing with the excuse he needed to change and perhaps take a shower too. It had worked in him ever since Madame Pomfrey had treated Hermione's injuries. Hermione's arm hadn't been just dislodged but broken also. Severer, however, was the head injury — Skull fracture. Harry had glared at the matron when she announced the diagnosis as if she had gone crazy. A few spells, some nasty potions would do, and everything will be fine again she had told him.

Still, the seed had been planted, and Harry was looking for a confrontation with Ron. What he was doing on this floor, Harry could just guess. After all, the room offered the possibility to get to the little magical village called Hogsmead too.

Just in time, Harry was able to find cover in a branch of the main corridor. Unfortunately, he had left the invisibility cloak back in the headquarters to avoid any inquiring about it by Hermione when he returned into the hospital wing. Now, he could use this incredibly useful item, because Ron had suddenly stopped in front of the room of requirements.

He didn't seem to have any intention to walk three times, as one usually needed to do so they could enter the room through the then appearing door. Instead, Ron just stood there in the corridor and was waiting. By closer inspection, he looked nervous and frustrated. Several times he was gripping his hair while murmuring something under his breath.

Did he feel guilty? If so, why wasn't he in the hospital wing rather than standing here in a deserted corridor? Finally, a door appeared on the wall. Ron wasn't here to escape to Hogsmeade and to get drunk in one of the pubs. Both he and Harry were now starring at the door, anticipating whoever there might step out of the room. At last, a petit figure well covered in a cloak, the hood deep in the face, but Harry assumed it to be a woman, opened the door and stopped in front of Ron. His reaction didn't give anything away until the person greeted him.

"Weasley, I didn't think you would come." Pansy Parkinson's sultry, self-righteous voice was unmistakable.

"You didn't leave me any other choice, now did you? Blackmailing me, really now?" Ron spat.

And again, this two were meeting. Pansy Parkinson was a wanted Death Eater, who was responsible for the death of several Muggles. It had been all over the Daily Prophet, but Harry had chosen to stay away from the coverage. He had decided to return for the seventh year to Hogwarts after all so he could escape the chaos in the magical world and to have one year in peace. Voldemort was defeated. Harry had done the deed. Now others could take care of the rest.

"It worked."

"Just too bad that it won't matter anyway." Ron hollowly laughed. "Tell her everything, if you like, I don't care. She cheated on me with my best friend anyway!"

"Didn't I tell you, she only got eyes for Potter? What do you want from that mudblood, anyhow?"Pansy hissed.

Harry clenched his fists. He couldn't believe what kind of conversation he was overhearing.

"Don't call her that!" Ron warned her half-hearted.

They stood by now closer, more intimate to each other. The body language and their looks were telling. Harry closed bis eyes in disgust. Soon, he heard rustling and how they were making out.

"You've missed me!" Pansy triumphantly sighed.

Fervently Harry hoped they would soon vanish into the room or lay off from another. It was inconceivable Ron had an affair with Pansy.

"Why did you want to see me that badly?" Ron had pushed Pansy against the wall.

"I already told you that yesterday." She replied irritated.

"And I told you that I don't have anything to do with it. Ask Malfoy!" Ron turned in anger away from her and was straightening his clothes.

"I haven't seen him in over a year, Ron! You know that too well." She snapped.

Harry was only relieved that the mood had cooled considerably down between them.

"I can't use this now." Ron muttered and stepped even further away from her.

Perhaps, he realised with whom he had made out.

"Listen to me!" Pansy's voice sounded completely different. "I'm going to turn myself in by tomorrow."

A long silence followed.

"You can't do that! They'll throw you into Azkaban for years!" Ron seemed honestly shocked by her decision.

"I have to, or I'll never have a chance to lead a normal life. For this, I have to know that someone takes care of her, while I'm gone, that she is fine." Tears were running by now over her cheeks.

Harry almost felt sorry for her. Ron, however, made this emotional outburst angry.

"Do what you want, but I won't help you." He shouted and turned to leave.

"Ron, please!" She grabbed his wrist to hold him back.

"Forget it! Look for any other solution!" He shook her rudely off and walked away from her.

For Harry, it was difficult to decipher what this was all about? Minutes went by before Pansy had calmed down and left the corridor again through the room of requirements.


End file.
